Chapter Text
Damn it.
Saying that things weren’t going according to plan would have been a massive understatement. Before these cowards had cornered him in this alleyway, he had thought that his day would be normal for once. Ikebukuro had seemed strangely relaxed that day, his business phone hadn’t rung once. And he had been foolish enough stumble optimistically forward. He even made plans with Anri and Mikado for hotpot at the latter’s place. That was the sole smart thing he had done all day, because if things took a turn for the worse, they would notice that he was gone.
Not more than an hour ago, Masaomi had received a call from a trusted confident. The subject of the conversation was an item that Masaomi had spent years searching for. But when he arrived at the discussed location, his friend was dead and his room had been ransacked. And that was just the beginning of what would turn out to be a very bad day. On his way back, he encountered trouble in the form of scorned gang members. Generally, they were his favorite type of gang member, but today they were a symptom of his horrible luck.
He pushed his damp bangs aside to clearly peer at the men who were approaching him from both sides. The alleyway they were in was rather moderate in size, not too large or small. But certainly large enough, it seemed, to accommodate an ambush. Alleyways weren’t his thing, he avoided them like the death magnets they were. Especially for someone like him, who certainly had more enemies than the average person. He liked to think of himself as smart enough to avoid taking shortcut through dark alleyways, regardless of time. When people really wanted to hurt someone, broad daylight was as good a time as any to do it. So why had he deviated from his day to day strategy? The equation for stupidity and randomness was simple: add rain, subtract an umbrella and impatience was born.
“I have to say that I’m flattered! An impromptu meeting with moi? I mean honestly the fact that you all were so eager to see me that you couldn’t even call first, really said something about how you all feel about me!” he punctuated this with a wink, grinning at them. Playing off his apprehension, now bordering on fear as they continued to approach him. The low, rumbling laughter that surrounded him was far from comforting as the leader stopped about a foot away from him. There were about seven of them, no eight-someone else just came in. Nine, fuck. No color, rogue members of the dollars maybe?
“So, do you have any idea what this is about? It’s pretty fucking obvious, but we can spell this shit out for you if you want us too.” He was a tall man, broad shoulders, with a disturbingly casual way of conversing.
“I have one guess; my sterling personality?”
“Ha, you’re a funny one aren’t you? Last week we planned to rob a group of tourists, a job that should have went off without a hitch and do you know what happened? The police showed up, we barely escaped in time. And don’t try any of that innocent bullshit, we know it was you.” He said, voice slowly losing it’s casualty.
Of course Masaomi knew what they were referring to, he had tipped off the police. Now he knew who these people were, lowlife thugs, not even part of a major gang. Simply vultures that consumed anything they could get their hands on. After their first spree earlier in the year, Masaomi had decided to keep tabs on them before stopping their next attack. His grin collapsed, it gradually became smaller, as his lips closed over teeth.
“Well you got me. Honestly, I’m surprised that you even found me this quickly. Impressive, really Do you know what else would be impressive? If you let me go.” He said coolly, as he analyzed them. Nine opponents definitely interfered with his confidence.
“No can do bro. Think of this as an educational experience, from now on, you’ll run your mouth less, information broker.” The leader said as he lifted his pipe off his shoulder, as a grin pulled at his lips. Masaomi could hear the ones behind him coming closer as well, and his hands closed into fists. He wondered which will attack first, the ones in the front or behind?
Soon his question was answered when he felt the air shift from the sudden movement. His reaction time was quick as he pivoted on his heel, slamming his elbow into someone’s stomach. A knife dropped, as the person sagged forward from the pain and the leader is swung the pipe towards him. He’d like to tell himself that it was more reflex than anything that made him throw the subordinate at the leader. The goon blocked the pipe blow completely, and fell to the ground, head bleeding and lolling before all hell breaks loose. Suddenly Masaomi’s world was that of punches and kicks being thrown, some connecting, most blocked as he fights the dirtiest that he has in years. But it was only a matter of time before he was being overpowered, not outmatched but certainly outnumbered as he was punched in the jaw. The first one didn’t stun him much, but the second and third ones certainly did the job.Then a hand was fixed around his throat and his body was pinned against the hard brick. He grimaced at the taste of blood in his mouth.
“I’m surprised that you’re such a high commodity. Most customers don’t want the services of a snitch.” Now he sounded angry, before Masaomi could respond, the hand closed around his windpipe. This might be the first time in years that he’ll be pounded into the concrete.
“Put him down.” The voice was quiet and feminine but strong, and he recognized it immediately. Anri Sonohara, the strongest person in Ikebukuro and one of his best friends.
“Excuse me bitch?” he asked and Kida struggled before his neck was squeezed.
“I’ll only repeat myself once. Put him down and leave now before I change my mind. I won’t ask again.”
Her tone didn’t change, hadn’t risen one octave, but her hand had closed into a fist. The thugs sized up the acclaimed strongest person in Ikebukuro, she certainly didn't look very dangerous. Not to mention the fact that rumors often weren’t very reliable sources of information.
“Leave before you get hurt,” The thug’s underlings had begun to crowd around him, and effectively blocked him from her.
“I had hoped that I wouldn’t have to do this. But you leave me no choice.” She said, taking off her glasses to wipe off the fog. The moment she put them back on was immediately followed by her punching a goon in the face. Masaomi heard a sharp crunch! as the poor bastard crumpled to the floor and the rest attacked her. She drove her elbow into the stomach of the man behind her, and threw him into a would-be attacker, before she kicked another in the crouch. A punch to the face was how she finished him, before she swung on the others.
The leader was shocked, understably distracted by Anri’s one woman assault and it easily became his downfall. Masaomi’s foot connected with his crotch in one swift instant, and the brute was crumbling to the floor in the next moment. The blonde immediately began to pat him down for a gun because he refused to make multiple mistakes in the same day. Then with a sigh, he grabbed the man by his collar, forcing his face up.
“So, any other angry thugs that I need to know about?” He asked, forcing casualness as he ignored his aching throat. There was no question that it would bruise quickly, and Masaomi was certainly annoyed by that. But vanity would have to wait, he needed to find out how many enemies he currently had. Well, how many new enemies. The man at his feet laughed dryly, and Masaomi heard the sound of footsteps somewhere deeper in the alley. Then the distinct sound of a gunshot, and his abdomen was on fire. Blood seeped through his shirt, and all Masaomi could think about was how being shot was nothing like being stabbed.
Even the feeling of impact was distinctly different as he slid to the floor with laughter surrounding him. The world seemed to slow down as he saw Anri run towards the man who shot him. It was over in seconds, he fired off shots but his friend didn't slow and soon her fist was connecting with his face. Masaomi’s eyes slid closed and she was at his side again, hands pressed against the wound, a mix of frustration and worry on her face. She said something to the gang leader but Masaomi blacked out before he could process it. He woke up to fingers being snapped in front of his face. He opened his eyes a smidgen, quickly recognizing Mikado and his home, before he turned on his side. Well, tried to, before it flared up in pain.
"Ugh five more minutes mom-"
“Are you trying to joke at a time like this? Seriously?” Mikado’s voice toed the line between elevation and shouting. Queue, lecture.
Anri began carefully, "Um,"
Mikado was suddenly quiet.
“I think what Mikado is trying to say, is that you could’ve been really hurt-”
“Killed Anri! They shot him-”
“And that we were really worried.”
“You could’ve died on the way over here!” Mikado looked like he was moments away from a heart attack. His expression one of a man who obviously couldn’t decide whether to be furious or relieved that his best friend wasn’t dead.
“Mikado, chill okay? Hear me out, those guys cornered me in the alleyway. They were upset about what happened with those thugs a few weeks ago and tried to teach me a lesson-”
“They shot you-”
“Mikado, calm down. I'm fine, see? You stitched me up like a pro, why aren't you an actual doctor again?”
“Yeah sure just imagine the nightmare that would be. You stumbling into my emergency room with all sorts of knife wounds and gunshots, I’m sure my superiors would love that.” Mikado groaned and ruffles his own hair. Masaomi doesn’t miss how he avoids the question.
“Yeah just imagine, the possibility of missing out on seeing this hot body every week-”
“You know that’s not-”
“Not to mention Anri’s-” He added with a playful leer and Mikado’s face turned beet red.
“You-!”
After a few hours they settled down in Mikado’s living room, Masaomi happily sprawled out in the laps of both Anri and Mikado. Anri smiled a little, while Mikado ignored him, and rolled his eyes as they fell into silence. Masaomi thought back on their earlier conversation as he laid in his best friend’s lap. Why don’t you become an actual doctor? The answer was obvious, there was something about this life that attracted him. Something about knowing that any second a criminal could be stumbling through his door riddled with bullets that was appealing to Mikado. About a job that had no technical hours that could call him in at any moment, one that could cost him. Chaos was always surrounding his home and Mikado loved it. And that bothered Masaomi, his friend’s attraction to the dark and dangerous side of life troubled him. He had never wanted to involve either of them in this. His life.
“Can you hand me my phone? I need to call her.” He told Anri and she handed him his mobile.
“So you almost found it? Actually?” Mikado asked and Masaomi nodded.
“Almost. Now the guy’s dead.” Masaomi explained and she dialed the number. As he listened to the phone ring, his thoughts strayed to how he got here.
Being an information broker was something that he had fallen into. In high school he had no prospects, no future, only parents who obviously didn’t care about him. And then he met Shinichi, and his life suddenly had potential. One that involved close encounters with some innocents, but mostly with criminals from all walks of life. Still it was better than the life that had been set before him earlier. A life of struggling, of working at a dead end job at a fucking Mcdonald’s, or Seven Eleven for his entire life. He could have money, a house instead of a shitty apartment, the life he always wanted. He just never expected to drag his friends down with him.
But maybe he should have, thing were already in the making even back in highschool. After the incident at his home, Anri’s opponents seemed to increase daily, and Mikado only became more interested in the Ikebukuro underground. The only thing that made it bearable now was that he could protect them, he had resources. People at his fingertips that owed him favors, that jumped when he asked them to. He only hoped that in the end it would be enough, and that if he went down in flames….he’d burn alone.
A few hours later, a young man exited the subway car while he dragged a bag of luggage behind him. He was exhausted, that much was clear from the bags under his eyes. It was sharp contrast to the wide smile on his face as he fixed his glasses and took in the city with a large sigh.
“So this is Ikebukuro, well it’s a lot brighter than I imagined! Now where is-”
“There you are,” Izaya said, coming out from behind a pillar. His eyes were on his phone as he tapped away at his keys, only put away when he drew closer.
“I was worried sick, honestly-”
“Yeah, yeah, help me out with this will you? These are heavy,” Shinra groaned as he practically pushed the bags into Izaya’s hands. The slighter shorter man made a small displeased noise as he took the bag. “You know that wasn’t the warmest welcome I could’ve gotten. No ‘glad to see you Izaya’ or ‘thanks for meeting me at the subway’ or even a ‘please’-”
“Please, are you really complaining right now? I’ve been here for like, three minutes. I’m honestly more concerned with finding a bed than your feelings. At least now I live alone,” He reflected, rubbing his eyes. “We live near each other right?”
“Well of course! We’re even in the same class at school, luckily enough. It’s interesting how things just fall into place, isn’t it?” He asked, and Shinra nodded numbly, as he yawned and stretched.
“Yeah sure, so what are the classes like? Are they hard?”
“I don’t find them difficult,” Izaya began as they walked up the stairs, approaching the street. Then a rider dressed in black sped down it on a motorcycle. On it’s tail was nearly a taskforce of officers, all probably driving over the speed limit. As it got closer he thought he saw something black that clung to the bike itself, almost like malleable shadows. It was gone too quickly for Shinra to properly discern what it was, then moments later he watched it drive away.
“Interested?” Izaya’s face had broken into his cheshire grin as he stepped closer.
“No way! You know that person?”
“Well,” He dropped Shinra’s bags and wrapped an arm around the other boy, pulling him closer.
“Dude.”
“There’s a legend in this city, one of the black rider. The story goes that he stalks the streets at night, searching for it’s removed head.” Izaya told him, before he released him and grabbed his luggage while Shinra groaned.
“I thought you had something to tell me about the actual rider-”
“So what if I didn’t? A story’s a story! There’s joy in the very act of hearing it. Besides, how likely are you to actually meet that person?”
“Not very, but-”
“So why does it matter? Do you think that twenty years from now you’ll think back and remember that stranger you saw once while you were in high school?”
“.....no.” He admitted reluctantly, irritated with how Izaya’s smile only grew.
“Anyway, we need to get you home, it’s getting dark. Although being robbed would probably be an exciting experience for you, your first night’s a bit early isn’t it?” He said casually as he started to walk again. Shinra steadily followed after him, his mind still on the biker. He was curious, unnervingly so, although it was far from rational. Izaya was right, he’d probably never actually meet that person, it was pointless. Besides, he had came to Ikebukuro for a reason and Izaya’s urban legends weren’t one of them. Still the image of the motorcyclist stayed seared into his mind, was the focus of his thoughts until he fell asleep. There was no point, none at all.